


The Girl & The Beekeeper

by thepinballer



Category: Ghost Quartet - Malloy
Genre: F/F, I’ll Do My Best You Guys, Most Likely Inaccurate Beekeeping, Reincarnation, We’ll see how it goes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-15 22:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinballer/pseuds/thepinballer
Summary: Foregoing a pretty summary for this one- this isn’t exactly an AU, but just another time. I really like the idea of lives where Rose tries and fails to get the Bear’s stuff, so this is the first of that. Lack of tags because they aren’t exactly original characters but they aren’t exactly existing ones. Y’all know how GQ works.





	1. Prologue

Rose was born with two things: a taste for honey and unadulterated rage. Being raised- if you could even call it that- by a single father and her annoyingly pessimistic older brother did little to help the latter, and, for the longest time, nothing truly sated the former.

 

At the age of 15, Rose’s stupid idiot grandmother died, so her stupid idiot family moved away from their small coastal home and onto her grandmother’s stupid idiot farm. Rose has been perfectly content at their old home, the waves of the ocean often helping to soothe her anger. The sand was such a perfect white, and the oceans such a beautiful blue. She had found the perfect little alcove where she could slip away from her dreadful family and simply take in the smell of the ocean. Their house was overgrown with rose bushes, the ones she has been lovingly named after, and old trees protected it from the harsh glare of the sun, leaving only dappled sunlight to paint the cottage. Though the paint which was once a bright sky blue had chipped and faded away into an almost off white color, and the shudders creaked and the ceiling sometimes leaked, it was home. 

 

And then they moved to the stupid idiot farm for stupid idiots.

 

Even at 20, Rose still despised every bit of it: the ghastly red walls of the barn, the monotonously beige fields of wheat, and, of course, the nearby village of stupid idiots. She could hardly put up with her brother’s melancholic philosophies or her father’s constant pestering about her lack of a husband.

 

And then she met the beekeeper.


	2. Lost

_ ‘Shouldn’t you have a husband by now?’ _

 

Her brother’s words echo in her head as Rose storms through the woods, following wherever the worn cobblestone takes her. He’s so lame. He’s never even had a girlfriend, who is he to speak of marriage?  He’s always been a petulant shithead, but good  _ lord _ , she has had enough of it. Why does she need a husband anyways? Men are, quite frankly, ugly and useless. She can’t even begin to understand the concept of attraction. Rose is keenly aware of how lacking she is in maternal instinct, and her upbringing taught her absolutely nothing. She’s often been told that, though she is a beauty, her personality is “repulsive” and “atrocious” and “all around unpleasant to any man who has the displeasure of interacting with her.” Frankly, she doesn’t give a fuck.

 

Rose is jolted out of her thoughts at the sound of buzzing, and she quickly realizes that she has no idea where she is. The trees are thick, the cobblestone path is covered in moss, and the sun is lower in the sky than it should be. Ugh. She’s clenching her fists again. She turns her palm over and stares at the red crescent moons in her skin before looking back up at her surroundings.  _ Ugh.  _ She is so fucking lost. She carefully follows the mossy path, becoming acutely aware of the growing buzz. Thankfully, the trees start to thin and the moss starts to clear. The buzzing is loud, but the wind carries a pretty melody above the noise.

 

Rose furrows her brow and pushes through the branches. The path opens up to a clearing, trimmed with large flower bushes and filled with white boxes, and at the very end is a small stone cottage, and-  _ oh _ .

 

A young woman- she can’t be much older than Rose herself- sits among the boxes, humming to herself and plucking a small harp. Her hair is in a loose, mousy brown braid. Her face is a bit gaunt, her eyes a bit sunken, and she seems more like a ghost than a person.

 

Rose starts to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't write long things :(

**Author's Note:**

> this will have very sporadic updates. hmu @official-mopsa on tumblr if you have any questions lol


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